Speeding Down The Tracks
by SparkleLikeASparklyThing
Summary: For fashionablyobsessed. Nina and Eddie. Spoilt, rude and inconsiderate teenagers with a chip on their shoulders the size of America. When their guardians get married, and Nina moves to Liverpool to work in Eric's homeless shelter with Eddie, can the two undergo a dramatic life-change? To get off the rails, yo have to at least be on the tracks... Multichap. R&R.
1. Satisfaction

**This story was written for fashionablyobsessed after they came second in my contest! It is a multichapter! Go check them out, as they owns the idea for this fic. I just write it. I tried to stay as true to their idea as possible, but I had to adapt it, so sorry‼‼‼‼ I hope you like it anyway.**

**I don't own House of Anubis.**

Nina's POV:

"Nina Jane Martin!" Screams my grandma from downstairs. I groan, and flop off of the king-sized bed, landing on a plush carpet. Dawdling as I walk, I open the door and bounce down the stairs of our huge home. My grandmother mother stands at the bottom, hands on hips, face a colour I don't think has been discovered, fuming.

"What is _this_?" She snaps, waving a small piece of white paper in my face. As it passes me eyes, I notice a large, red F scrawled across it. I grimace. My report.

"School report," I yawn, making my grandmother angrier. I am just pushing her buttons now. She frowns at me.

"Don't you use that tone with me, missy!" She thrusts the report into my hands, and I open it, beginning to read.

_Nina Martin is rude, spoilt and inconsiderate. She has the brains and the talent to achieve, but no drive, perseverance or integrity. There have been numerous breaches of school uniform and several incidents of a lack of manners towards teachers and fellow student alike. Upon several occasions, Nina has refused to hand in homework, excuses including: "My fish ate it," and, "my dog crapped on it." I regret to inform you that Ms Martin in suspended from school for the next five months._

"Suspended." She hisses. "Suspended. For five months. Nina, I am so disappointed in you. Haven't I given you whatever you wanted? A phone? Clothes? TV? A walk in closet? But what do I get in return?" She pinches the bridge of her nose, and sighs. "Nina, it is time for drastic action to be taken." I raise my perfectly plucked eyebrows at her.

"Gran, do you mean military school? Because we had this talk las month, and I don't think it's a good idea." Gran just rolls her eyes, before proceeding to sit down on the sofa in front of me.

"Nina, as you know, I haven't 'been in love' since Grandpa Joe died…" I gasp. She hadn't!

"Grandma…" She silences me with a finger raised in the air.

"I met a man online. He's fifty two, a year older than me, and, well… we're getting married." I widen my eyes.

"How long have you known this man?" I cry at her. She smiles slightly.

"A year and half tomorrow," She replies, calm and serene despite my blatant rudeness.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" I scream, aghast with fury. Gran grimaces.

"I knew you'd react like this. Nina, I really love him, and he really loves me. Can't you see that?" I fling my arm back, knocking over a vase in the process. The pieces shatter to the ground.

"Are we moving away?" I ask quietly, my palm bleeding from the broken pottery. She smiles again.

"That's back to the subject of your expulsion. Eric – that's his name, by the way, Eric – has a son who's also been suspended. They live in England, and Eric recently bought a homeless shelter in Liverpool, so…" I gasp. No! She wouldn't! Would she?

"Nina, you and Eric's son are going to work there for the next five months. Eric is also a teacher, so he can tutor you both whilst you're out of school, and if I don't see a dramatic change in your grades and behaviour, well… Boot camp is an open option."

"No!" I scream. "You can't make me leave! I have friends here, a boyfriend, a _life_! I won't leave! I'll stay with Aunt Peggy, or Uncle Charles and Josie! Please, don't make me go!" Gran looks furious now.

"You will be coming to England! Your friends are a disgrace, and your boyfriend is leading you down a bad road. I don't want that for you! And you call that a life? Those girls… Lila and Kayla and Marie… they're bad influences! And Alf? He's going to get you jailed!" I slam the door in her face and dash up the stairs, tears making my mascara run and my lipstick smudged.

Eddie POV:

"Edison Sweet! Pick up that shirt and get out of your room so I can talk to you!" I groan and stuff the shirt under the bed, before stomping downstairs and sitting heavily on a paisley print armchair. My father, Eric, look crossly down at me.

"Well?" I say, annoyed and tired. My father hits the roof (not literally).

"Well? _Well?_ This is not a 'well' moment Edison!" He yells, and I roll my eyes obnoxiously.

"What do you want me to say?" I yell back. He matches my volume, just as angry as me.

"I want you to tell me how you came to be suspended!" He cries. I grimace. I shouldn't have tried to bury the letter in his vegetable garden – now it's just overturned soil.

"This kid shoved me in the hall – he was a senior, a year older than me. I shoved him back, he punched me, and then there was a fight. It was an **accident. **I didn't think I'd get suspended!" His face shows a small amount of sympathy, before hardening again.

"Well, young man. You have crossed the line this time!" I furrow my brows; what does he mean? "You have started fights, back-chatted your teachers and now been suspended!" I shrug, tucking my right leg under my left. "From today, for the next five months, you will come to Liverpool with me. I have just purchased a homeless shelter with my savings," Now I'm really worried. What does his homeless shelter have to do with me?

"What's that got to do with me?" I ask, voicing my thoughts. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth.

"You will be working there for the length of your suspension. I have given you everything, Edison. Clothes, a computer, a television, a phone –you must learn to give back." I am about to protest, but he holds up a hand to silence me.

"Edison, I must tell you one more thing. I met a woman, fifty one, who lives in America. We fell in love, and she's moving here. We're getting married, Edison!" My face is furious, and I want to yell and scream.

"What the hell?" I shout at him, jumping up from my seat. "I don't want another mom!" My father looks angrier than he ever has before.

"Well that's too bad!" He yells, "I'm getting married, and she's bringing over her granddaughter. She too has been suspended. You will both work at the shelter, and that is final, Edison!" I run out, slamming the door so hard that it rattles the walls. A picture falls, smashing to the ground. It is of dad and a woman who's not my mom, who looks about fifty one, in Florida. He is kissing her on the cheek, and she is laughing. I hurl it across the room, watching the glass crack and the frame shatter.

It gives me a little satisfaction.


	2. Home

This chapter is long overdue, and for that I'm so, so sorry. But i've been unwell and the homework was piling up, but I'm ready to write! In fact, I'll write a few chapters! Remember to check out fashionablyobsessed, who owns this plot. I just write it! Love you guys, you're all brilliant and I hope you know how wonderful you are.

I don't own House Of Anubis.

Nina's P.O.V:

One photo. A smiling little girl with rumpled brown hair, an older lady and two grinning parents.

Two tubes of cheap, thick mascara - from a smiley little girl to a rebellious teenager, with harsh dark circles that aren't makeup.

Three tickets for crappy films; boring dates with a boy who only likes me for kissing.

And four strips of photos, in a booth with false friends who don't care about me.

It is my childhood, my life being packed away into cardboard boxes and a suitcase, just so that I can move across an ocean so my Gran can find true love. It is me going through my memories, and remembering the person I once was. Before my parents died, I went off the rails and became an adolescent. Before rebellion hit like a twisted epiphany, and my only way to make a name for myself was to skip school and pretend I didn't care.

The small items are thrown into the bottom of my pink suitcase. They shouldn't matter, but they do.

"Nina, hurry up!" My Gran yells at me from downstairs. She's still angry at me from the previous fight. We haven't spoken: I eat all my meals in my room with a Friends marathon playing on Comedy Central, and the door stays shut. My choice, completely my choice. I'd rather be shut out from the world than face Gran… right?

"NINA!" Anger is clear in her voice, but it breaks a little to the end of the word as she finishes. I just want to hug her and pull on my blazer and get good grades again - but this much bad blood can't be forgotten with a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. I may as well not even try.

"Coming!" I yell back, and I hear a sigh, then the sound of a key in the large front door. A slight rustle as the draught excluder is pushed out of the way, and then silence. Dragging my suitcase down the stairs, I place it in the trunk and sit in the passenger seat. The stony silence of the past week forms a barrier between me and Gran, and I don't have the strength nor the willpower to knock it down.

One photo. A smiling little girl with rumpled brown hair, an older lady and two grinning parents. It still sits on my dressing table. Back in the house. Back in my home.

Eddie's P.O.V

"Edison Sweet! Pack up your things and get into the car NOW!" I shrug my shoulders at the muffled sound of my dad's angry voice through my headphones. They blare American Idiot loudly into my ears,and my father's voice is barely audible above the din. Aimlessly, I throw various clothes into my back, along with a copy of Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone into my bag. I don't get why we have to move. Surely my dad's fiance and her bitchy daughter can stay in our house? I don't want to leave.I grew up here, and here I know my place. Sure,the paisley print armchairs and threadbare,moth eaten carpes get a little tiresome but still! I like it here. And the other people invading my perfectly put together life schedule can get used to it. Their choice, not mine.

At last, I storm downstairs, bag in hand, laptop in case and headhones still father is fuming, and I don't care I shrug my shoulders at him, smirk and pick up the back of Phildalphia cheese sandwiches on brown bread. My favourite. He is trying to butter me up for when we move into a new house, with a new family. Well it sure as hell won't work! He's made his choices, I've made mine. He left Mom,and I forgave him. He uprooted me from my life in America and I let him off the hook. But I don't want this change in my life. I want just one thing to stay the same.

"Well. At least you're ready," he says stiffly, obviously trying to calm his rage. He walks to the car before I do, throwing my bag in the boot. I take a second to stare back at the house nostalgically, before looking in the window at my dad. He is clenching the steering in a vice like grip, knuckles white and face red with concentration. Just before I open the door to the little red Mini, I see one tiny, iridescent tear hit the worn leather interior.

I brush it off; I have enough problems of my own right now.


End file.
